


He Who Tamed the Sun

by ZeroApathy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood and Violence, Developing Relationship, Dragons, Dubious Consent, Dwarves, Elves, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fantasy, High Fantasy, Homophobia, Knotting, M/M, Magic, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Rituals, Mpreg, Multi, Original Slash, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Sex, Smut, Tweaked a bit, War, Worldbuilding, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28912371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroApathy/pseuds/ZeroApathy
Summary: It all changed in one night...as cliché as that was. One night where he thrust off the mantle of a prince burdened with the weight of lofty expectations and suffocating responsibilities. A night where he encountered one impossibility and was thrust into another. Perhaps the young prince doth complain too much?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	He Who Tamed the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> After all my work got wiped for my other stories (mostly my fault) I've decided to come out of my sulk and get into the rhythm of writing again! This idea has been plaguing me, and I could resist it no longer. Normally, I don't put smut so early in my stories, but I'm shamelessly going to admit a good portion of this chapter will have that! Its conducive to the plot so...there's my excuse. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Forgive the length here. :)

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**_“_** _For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction.”_ **_— Lord Byron_**

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~ 

“This is...unwise, Erik, please. We should head back. The amount of trouble we’ll be in is...I shudder to even _fathom_ it...” 

The gentle darkness made the mischievous light in sea-foam green eyes all the brighter, seemingly unbothered by the doom foretold by his friend. It wasn’t so much a possibility as it was just a guaranteed outcome that was awaiting them at the end of this little escapade. But what was life without a little danger? A little trouble? 

“Oh, I don’t doubt your premonition Vaalyun. But I don’t think I could stand another birthday celebration where I’m not actually enjoying myself. Doesn’t make much sense, yeah?” 

A weary shuffle to his right, followed by a quiet knicker from a chocolate brown mare signaled to both that someone valued an efficient use of time and would be happy if they reached a decision sooner rather than later. Either they go in to the invitingly lit establishment before them or turn away in defeat. 

The one known as Vaalyun, the shorter and more anxious of the two, turned his icy-blues upon his friend, the darkness hiding how he was worrying the bottom of his lip, conflicted. “No, it doesn’t. But you and me both know the real reason you left is because you are afraid of meeting the princess—” 

“Afraid is a rather strong word—” 

“—and having to, heavens forbid, stay in her company more than a fleet three seconds,” finished the other as if Erik hadn’t spoken at all. “Honestly Erik, this isn’t really becoming of a Prince— “ 

“ _Honestly_ Vaalyun you are beginning to sound like my father,” Erik interrupted rather sarcastically, immediately regretting his tone when he saw the mildly stricken expression on that pale, elfin visage. He knew the other only had his best interest at heart; knew that he only accompanied him on this foolish endeavor out of loyalty and concern for his best friend because the Gods knew someone needed to keep him out of trouble. But truly though, prince or not, he couldn’t bare being back home in the palace, supposedly getting ready for a meet-and-greet cleverly disguised as a birthday celebration with who was to be his soon-to-be bride. 

The thought alone was enough to invoke a full-body shudder from the prince. 

“Are you cold?” Vaalyun asked sincerely, mistaking that reaction for one being born of a lack of warmth (it was fairly cool tonight). His friend’s waspish tone had been forgotten in favor of his wellbeing. 

“Ah, no. And sorry about earlier. I’m just...I really don’t want to go back there. I know I can’t run from such things forever, but all I ask for is one night. One night of freedom. Of not being Prince Erik of Ethor, future husband to some beautiful elf princess I’ve never met.” 

“That is a rather suffocating title I suppose,” mused the other, seeing the outline of a smile forming under the shadow of that hood. 

Erik couldn’t suppress the faint chuckle that slipped past his lips, shifting on the saddle of his steed. It was beginning to become uncomfortable. “And this is literally the first time I’ve left the Inner Circle in all my 18 years of life.” 

“I know, “said the other softly, sympathetically. 

“I need this Vaalyun, please. Even...Even if it's just a couple hours. I promise I won’t ask anything this reckless of you ever again.” 

Frost colored brows nearly shot up pass the line of equally frost colored bangs, the corner of pink lips stuck between a frown and a disbelieving smile. “Even I know not to believe that...but,” the pleading expression was just too much for his weak heart, “I suppose a few hours wouldn’t be too difficult to pull off.” 

“You’ll do it then?” Erik whispered, ecstatic, unable to contain his excitement. “I mean, if you prefer, you can still come inside with me.” 

Cloth enshrouded hands were held up in a firm denial as ice-blue hues eyed the splintered sign that read _The Silver Palm Pub_ and its minute imperfections, finding the establishment it belonged to unsavory. And unsavory for him usually meant the place was infested with a high population of people that an introvert like him actively avoided if he could help it. 

“As much as I want to see how you conduct yourself in a different type of...environment, it’s probably best I go back and work on conjuring up a hopefully believable version of you. Granted, conjuration is something I’m still rather unskilled at, and conjuring an illusion of a whole person that’s supposed to be fully functional may be a failed endeavor in the making—”” 

Erik quietly clasped gloved hands in his bigger ones, cutting off that frantic mumbling instantly as the elf looked away in embarrassment, just a smidge of crimson at the tip of pointed ears. “You can do it. Your like...the smartest, most talented mage I’ve ever met.” 

“And you’re a shameless flatter,” the elf shook his head in disagreement, even if the compliment did sink in if that smile was anything to go by. “I’m just an apprentice, remember that Erik. I’ll do my best, but we’ll hope that my master is too busy with other matters to pay attention to what’s probably going to be a poorly crafted version of you.” 

“I’d be more concerned with fooling my mother...or my siblings...hell my dad even. Okay, the whole family... _Wow_ , this is a terrible idea.” And suddenly the guilt begins to set in at imposing such a daunting task upon his best friend, knowing that all this was doing was simply stealing time that didn’t exist in the first place. 

The affection he felt for his friend grew tenfold just then. 

Seeing this understanding burgeoning in those light green hues, Vaalyun smile grew wistful and he removed his hands from Erik to grasp the reigns of his steed who had been patiently standing in one spot this whole time. “Well, leave that to me to contend with. As it is, my prince, we are wasting precious time, which would technically be making my job all the harder.” 

_True._

Erik cleared his throat, bringing the hood of his travelers' cloak over his head as he slid off his mount and handed the reins to the other. They had planned to go further—maybe even outside the city, but Erik was attracted to this place like a moth to a flame due to the sheer brightness of it. A beacon that pierced the veil of darkness on an otherwise quiet street. 

“Alright, thank you my friend. Really, I appreciate it—” 

“You’ll show that appreciation when I ask for your assistance in one of my assignments.” 

The prince sputtered in a rather undignified manner, eyes widening slightly, “N-No way... Anything but that—” 

“Have fun, my prince. And do stay out of trouble, please,” waved the other in farewell as he turned away, and spurred his horse into a steady trot, already rounding the corner. 

Erik ran a hand through ink-black, naturally wild hair, almost fearful of the boredom that lay in his future before realizing with a gleeful grin one outstanding fact: 

For the first time in his 18 years of life, _he was free._

The feeling was so overwhelming; his hands almost shook from the thrill of it; the chilled, stagnant air of the outside refreshed his lungs; and the fact that he was all alone in virtually a new world only emboldened him rather than deterred him. And here he was, squandering that precious time he stole for himself on deliberation—but how could he not take a few seconds to soak it all in? Yes, there we go. Freedom was so beautiful; he’d never forget this irreplicable feeling as long as he lived...and this was all but a taste. 

The greater slice lay behind those wooden doors. 

Hands still quivering with an almost nervous energy, Erik reached for the door, appreciating the imperfections in the wood for but a hot second and contrasting them to the polished veneer that made up one of those fancy dinner tables back home. He found he much preferred this, grinning despite himself as he pushed open the door, stepped pass the threshold to confront the mystery within. 

What greeted him was everything he expected...and more. 

All kinds of people—elves, dwarves, humans, centaurs, fae, hell was that a minotaur? —were all congregated in this warm establishment filled to the brim with uproarious laughter, loud, thrumming music, and various scents that almost caused him an olfactory overload. It was so different from the galas and balls; so different from the prim and proper nobility having superficial conversations over meals the scale in which the general public would probably never see in their lives; so different in how this placed screamed inclusivity for all no matter your social status. He loved it—from the mud-caked boots coming from someone who had been ploughing a field all day, to the dwarf eyeing him gruffly from a table of three—everything was perfect. 

Bereft of the social ques he was used to, he wondered how one was to ingratiate himself here... 

Wandering sea-green eyes landed on the bar, the empty stools a fiery beacon of light in a social forest like this. 

_That’ll do._

Satisfied, Erik took a seat a couple stools away from the two humans bickering about something inconsequential, not quite ready to jump into the sea when he had barely begun to wet his feet. But it wouldn’t be that easy; the prince nearly started when a voice rough on the ears acknowledged his presence: 

“Yer a new face ‘round these parts. A young un too. But we all gotta start somewhere, eh? Name’s Mudrick. What can I do ya for, laddie?” 

The Prince of Ethor couldn’t keep himself from marveling at what he believed to be a fawn; auburn, goat-like, furry legs attached to the torso of a man clothed in a leaf-green tunic, and a pair of ivory-white horns amidst a nest of burgundy curls. It was hard not to stare in wonderment; years of etiquette beaten into him (not quite so figuratively at times) prevented him from actively doing so. Granted, he wasn’t fast enough to stop the faun from raising an inquisitive brow in his direction, probably thinking he was the unusual one. People generally answered if a question was directed towards them; it was only polite. Clearing his throat and removing his hood, Erik tried his best not to sound completely socially inept: 

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mudrick. My name is Erik. And some of your finest wine would be nice I suppose.” The faun ogled him briefly before spontaneously bursting into laughter, which funnily enough was composed of little bleats much like a goat. He would have found it rather charming if he hadn’t been the one being laughed at. Black brows furrowed, disgruntled. “I fail to see why my words elicited such a response, sir...?” 

“That! That right there, laddie. You speak like one of those fancy nobles, yer do. Are ye one? We don’t get many who come in ‘ere askin for wine of all thin’s.” 

Erik tried to hold back the crimson that threatened to spread like wildfire up his throat, not having taken his manner of speaking into account when sneaking out today. He had made sure to dress in his shabbiest garments tonight; a navy-blue tunic, some off-white, cotton pants, and a pair of older riding boots. It was the best(worse?) he could do given that every garment in his possession was probably worth this faun's weight in gold. But he couldn’t do anything about how he talked—he didn’t know any other way, really. Maybe he could try a more casual approach? 

“Uhm...something of the sort, yeah. Are those of nobility not welcome here or—?” 

“Now don’t be puttin’ words in me mouth. Was just askin. ‘Sides, all money is good money ‘ere.” Mudrick tutted, cleaning out a mug before filling it with a light-colored liquid to push towards Erik. “Now we don’t carry any wine ‘ere, lad. But we got mead. Try it, just right for greenhorn like yer self.” 

“Greenhorn?” Erik echoed vaguely, lightly sniffing the beverage before determining it was safe to sample. 

_Oh, that was good._

The flavor was like honey on the tongue; the aroma filling his nostrils with the scent of orange blossoms. A hint of citrus was there, hidden under the sanguine sweetness of clover honey and some other unidentifiable spice. Certainly, reminiscent of wine, but not nearly aged as long. This didn’t detract anything from the alcohol content if his tastebuds had anything to say about it. 

“Good aint it?” said the fawn with no small amount of smugness. 

“Quite so,” easily acquiesced the prince, digging into his satchel for eight gold pieces to slide them across the wooden surface. He eyed the empty container thoughtfully. “Is there anymore?” 

“Oh of course, yer lordship.” 

Quick to pick up the gold pieces, Erik couldn’t help but cock his head, perplexed when he saw the non-human bite one of the coins, letting out a pleased sound at whatever he discerned from that. But he didn’t question it when his mug was once again filled with that tasty beverage. Normally, one would sip wine gradually, but this wasn’t wine. Nor did he feel that’s what the common folk did. So, to better fit in, the prince thought it better to chug it down like that big fellow a couple tables down. Well, not so much like that; the waitress seemed to be serving him the whole tray of mugs she had been carrying. Now that he looked a little closer, the guy wasn’t quite human in the first place. 

“So, what brings yer to this humble, lil place, eh? I’d reckoned you’d be in one of those fancy places in the Ring of Nobility.” 

Dragged from his musings, Erik looked up from his less-than-full mug, meeting that curious, grey-eyed gaze coolly. Surely it didn’t cost anything to answer his question? “I just wanted...something a little different. Not that different is bad or anything,” he added quickly, not wanting to offend, “but it’s certainly a new experience. The atmosphere here is pleasant, the company is—” he tried not to do double-take when he almost met the gaze of what most assuredly was a Vila, “—diverse. And the music is enjoyable.” 

“Enjoyable? That rabble up there?” Mudrick jerked his chin towards the stage with a scoff where the dwarf entourage was preparing to leave the stage. “Tha’ was just the openin’ act, your lordship.” 

“Please no formalities. Erik is just fine.” Honestly, he was sick of them. “What do you mean by opening act?” 

“Just watch. I can promise ye’ haven’t heard real music till you heard a Seelie band play. I reckon they don’t let em play in those big ol’ fancy houses up there—for good reason of course.” 

_Seelie_ _?_

Relying on his aristocratic education, Erik knew the Seelie were the “good” faction when it came to fae-folk—at least the one’s they were amicable with. The other being the Unseelie. To be frank, their people as a whole were unpredictable in general; he himself having only met one his entire life. He had been around eight when he first laid eyes on the emissary from the Seelie court; could remember her cold beauty only rivaled by the elves; how eerie she had been, but at the same time so enchanting. Unfortunately, that’s all his brain could reliable muster up—his mother had ushered him away at some point, warning him of _something._ Liquor was making it difficult for him to recall correctly and he was sheepish to admit (even to himself) that he hasn’t had much experience with spirits in the first place—at least not in huge quantities like this. 

Because apparently getting drunk wasn’t behavior befitting one of his stature. 

Neither was having fun, making mistakes, _hell_ even breathing sometimes— 

_Ah, but he_ _digresses_ _._ Tonight, was about having fun. And having fun was enjoying more than just one drink and watching this Seelie band play. 

When they had finally taken their place on stage, Erik had twisted in his seat, mug in hand (once again full), expectations bolstered by the fawn who was humming a jaunty tune under his breath while he wiped the bar down. No one seemed to have eyes on the stage... Undeniably the individuals (composed of a flute player, a harp player, and he could assume was the singer) were beautiful in a way to give pause...but perhaps not enough to someone who's developed some immunity to the fae's unconventional beauty. 

Regardless, Erik sipped languidly at his drink, feeling that dizzying warmth that came from too much alcohol consumption delightfully spread throughout his body. He almost missed when the instruments launched into a whimsical melody; almost didn’t quite hear the soft, dulcet tunes of the vocalist until the words themselves seemed to sink into his very being. Words...words that he didn’t understand on the surface but could feel and hear them deciphered in his core, in his soul. 

_Dance_

He almost felt so inclined to do so; the word had been whispered so quietly in his ear, so soft, so persuasive. Why shouldn’t he? It would be so much fun...isn't that what he wanted? Fun? Y _es, fun..._

The music seemed to grow louder—or at least it felt that way in his brain, feeling this compelling surge of giddiness, of happiness, like the world was just some beautiful place and he had every right to enjoy it. No worries, no cares, no responsibilities. Yes, what a beautiful world indeed. But no, he wasn’t a part of that world. The words were merely an invitation; the resonance of the music merely a path. If he wanted to take it, be a part of a worry-free world, all he had to do was— 

_Surrender_

Yes, surrender, that’s it. Erik could feel himself slide onto his feet, unable to tear his eyes away from the band who seamlessly continued to play even though their eyes were now locked on him, speaking only to him. 

S _urrender thy will_. 

And freedom would surely be his. Yes, what a wonderful exchange. Just needed to get...a little closer... 

Almost enchanted by spectral promises of freedom and a carefree life of ease, Erik nearly jumped out of his skin when a warm hand came to rest upon his own, accompanied by a light, sultry voice that brushed softly against the shell of his ear: 

“I would advise against imparting your freedom so eagerly to the Seelie. You would be hard pressed to win it back.” 

And just like that, the Seelie's enchantment was broken, allowing the young man to come back to his senses—albeit slowly, finding that the world was still enshrouded in a dissipating layer of fog. Even so, one thing stood out through the haze; something gold; something that easily took his breath away. 

The one who helped him could quite easily been the most attractive person he’s ever met. 

If he had to imagine how the offspring of an elf and fae child would be, this person could easily fit the image—hands down. Characteristic, pointed ears from both races; skin a shade away from freshly fallen snow; hair like spun gold framing a handsome visage... He was beautiful in every sense of the world—inhumanly so. And yet...it was those eyes of molten amber that enraptured him so; there was a dim glow about them, one that he didn’t think was an elven trait. Nor was he familiar enough with the fae to know if it was something that was common to their race. 

Whatever the case maybe, Erik could say without a doubt that he was smitten. 

_Gods have mercy on my soul._

Erik realized he was still standing, mouth agape much like an uncultured fool, realizing that he been rudely staring at the man who had graciously decided to help him. Not to mention the other’s hand still was covering his own, effectively rooting him to the spot and slowing his brain function to a level that wasn’t quite up to standard. It was either that or the liquor swimming through his system. All the same, he didn’t think he was making quite the impression he would like, hastily recovering his seat at the bar, trying to find words of gratitude that didn’t make him sound like a bumbling idiot. 

“Ah...t-thanks for that,” a simple thanks would have to suffice; it was already hard enough to look the man in the eye without being reminded he was the one who rescued him from a different world of trouble. “I suppose without your timely interference I would have been—” 

“Thrust into a life of blissful servitude, stripped of your free will? Mm yes.” The other finished with no small trace of amusement, his smile deepening at the other’s embarrassed scowl. “Are you not aware of the effects the words of the Seelie have when weaved into a song?” 

For the sake of his pride, Erik decided not to be quite honest, not quite liking how the other’s phrasing made this sound like common knowledge. “Unfortunately, too much drink has impaired my judgement so I... forgot that little detail. This was my first time being exposed to a Seelie band after recommendation from another...” Mildly accusing sea-green eyes flickered over to where a suddenly busy faun was attending to another guest, knowing he had been heard when a furry ear twitched. 

“It was an easy mistake, a costly one, but we learn from our mistakes. Going forward this advice should serve you well: Listen, but only slightly when their words are composed into lyrics, and you are safe from harm.” 

The prince nodded in slight understanding before coughing politely to dislodge the awkwardness that seemed to be invading his body like a disease, being sure to rescue his hand from underneath that warm grasp as well. “I would like to thank you again. If you would provide me your name sir...?” 

The look he received was peculiar, intense, as if he asked something bizarre. For a moment, Erik wondered if his request had truly been so outlandish—or worse, _offensive._ He had been seconds away from recanting his request when the other finally turned away from him, eyes settling on something distant even as pink lips barely moved: 

“If it should please you, you may call me Leiss.” 

“Well, once again Leiss, thank you for your assistance. My name is...Erik.” Almost his full name was uttered, the ease from earlier in which he hid this slowly beginning to turn difficult. Maybe he did drink too much; he didn’t count how many he downed, nor had he been observant enough to notice how many times his mug had been magically refilled when it was barely empty. But he still...wanted to talk to this stranger who appeared so suddenly and quietly. He couldn’t quite tell if he was a native to this city or a visitor; his current state of dress didn’t give much detail away. A black robe with gold trimmings—it reminded him of the ones the mages wore. Maybe he had been on the right track when he likened him to an elf. 

“So,” began Erik conversationally, desperate to recapture that gaze again, “what brings you here tonight?” 

Achieving the desired effect, the stranger regarded him with a slight smile, entertained by something that only he was privy to. “I was seeking the presence of someone.” 

Maybe he wasn’t particularly able to understand things as fast as he usually did (liquor and such), but that was an unusual thing to say. Or at least the phrasing was. Still, he struggled to hide some of his disappointment when he said, “Oh. Did you find that person?” 

“Indeed. He had been a breath’s away from signing over his free will to the Seelie if I had not intervened when I did.” 

_Wait..._

“What... Wait, are you talking about me?” 

Leiss chuckled in a way that almost made Erik feel like he was the foolish one here for being so confused even though he’s had no recollection of ever meeting this man. Calmly, he asked, “Have we met before? I... I’m sure I would’ve recognized you if I did.” 

“On a few occasions, yes. You were but a child then, so I suppose it's understandable you wouldn’t remember me.” 

Before he could stop himself, Erik blurted out in surprised consternation, “You’re older than me? Oh...forgive me my rudeness, but that’s difficult to believe.” He almost wanted to slam his head into the surface of the wood for his tactlessness, but the man hardly looked a day over 20! 

Completely nonplussed, Leiss blinked shrewdly at him, a slight tilt to his head. “In a manner of speaking, yes I am.” 

“Do you often speak in riddles instead of giving straight answers?” His tone was a little testy and his mouth was set in an almost petulant pout, still bewilderingly attracted to the other despite all this. And the more he thought on this, the more it frightened him, old fears of his... _inclinations_ rearing its ugly head. “Never mind... Is there a reason you were looking for me? How did you know I would be here?” 

“Ever the curious mind I see.” 

“I wouldn’t be if you’d answer at least one of my questions.” 

The amusement ghosting that smile vanished; those eyes suddenly seemed a little brighter, regarding him with a seriousness that almost made Erik regret his mildly irritated tone. _Almost_ being key here—he felt he had a right to know some of these things, meeting that burning gaze with a cool one of his own. For a moment, he thought he saw the briefest flash of satisfaction before it disappeared so abruptly that he could be convinced he imagined it. 

“I’ll answer your questions...provided you can answer one of my own.” 

Intrigued, if not a little anxious, the prince nodded. “Yes, of course.” 

“Do you harbor attraction towards me?” 

Erik’s heart froze in his chest, and everything around him along with it. 

Did he really...just say that? Out in the open? Did anyone hear? _Gods_ , the fear was like being submerged under water with his head being forced underneath the surface, helpless, terror filling his lungs like black water. For all this guy's knowledge, did he not know the well-established fact that love for the same gender was a sick perversion scorned by the teachings of the Three Divines? Truthfully, the majority of that faith’s followers were human, but it was the predominant religion in the capital city of Findara, one that his family supported for who knew how long? He wasn’t privy to what elves believed, but he understood their disapproval on same sex relations extended to the undeniable fact that such a union produced no offspring. And given the fertility crisis currently plaguing their kind, this was a grave offense. Erik couldn’t speak on how other races viewed such a thing, but suffice it say here, in the capital city, that was a big _no._

Forgive him when he couldn’t help but respond in low, almost cold voice, grimacing. “How dare you—to even suggest that I... would conduct myself in such way. I think I am owed in apology—” 

“You would lie so boldly when naught but a few moments ago your heart raced with such speed when I merely placed my hand upon yours? Or how you can hardly look at me without flushing?” The other combated with ease, unperturbed. Like he wasn’t just accusing a noble of a criminal offense. 

“I... _Are you mad_? Do you want to be removed from here—or worse thrown in prison over some baseless claims?” Really, he was trying to keep his voice at a low volume, furtively glancing around to see if they were being overheard. Luckily enough, people were too consumed with what they were doing to spare them much attention. 

Well, that was his hope at least. 

“Would you be comfortable speaking truthfully if we could converse somewhere privately?” 

Erik gaped at the other, not knowing whatever to take him seriously or not. “You can’t be serious...” 

“I do not jest. Aren’t you curious to know if that same attraction is reciprocated?” 

It felt like all the control in the situation lay within those fine-boned hands; Erik was dealt an offer that he desperately wanted to take, just wanting to know if he wasn’t alone in his preference, that he had a sympathizer in this unfair world. It would be detrimental to him mentally to refuse, glancing around one final time before nodding stiffly, raising with an obvious rigidity about his stance. 

Yet the heartwarming smile he received was enough to almost chase away his doubts. 

_Almost._

Quietly, the wary prince followed the golden-haired man out the public space, down a hall and up a flight of stairs, taking comfort in the blanket of darkness they were in. Paranoia caused him to place the hood back over his head while feeling a slight drop of envy for the other who continued perilously ahead, free of concern or the danger that awaited them if someone was to look upon them with suspicion. Maybe...maybe that was why he was so beguiled by him. 

Soon enough they came upon a door at the end of the second-floor corridor. No key was required for entry strangely enough—the door opened with the slightest push from Leiss. The interior was rudimentary from Erik’s understanding; just a bed, a table, a spare chair or two, and a vanity...basic. In any event, it was comfortable merely because it was just the two of them and that should suffice. 

Reaching that conclusion was enough to let most of the tension drain from his body, turning around curiously when the door locked behind them and Leiss had somehow ended up standing near the table. How silently the man moved. So graceful. So fast... 

He must’ve been an elf. 

“Make yourself comfortable. We shall not be overheard,” assured the other as he turned to hover over the table, doing something that Erik couldn’t quite make out. 

This was fine though. Admittedly, he was beginning to become hot underneath this cloak so that was the first to go, draping it unceremoniously on a spare chair before taking a seat on the bed. Definitely not stuffed with swan feathers like his bed back home, but it was still heavenly for his liquor addled body. The desire to lay back was almost too much to bear, confident that he would probably doze off the moment his head hit the mattress. But he wanted to talk more...with this enchanting man and his alluring words. 

_So smitten was he..._

_“_ What...what are you doing over there?” Erik asked after a while, curious despite the heaviness in his brain, momentarily forgetting why they were here in the first place. 

Leiss didn’t answer him at first. But when he did, he was walking towards him with a silver goblet in hand, his expression inscrutable. Odd, Erik couldn’t recall there being a goblet anywhere in the room. “I synthesized a potion for you. It should avail you of the unwanted effects that arise when under the influence of alcohol. Here.” 

“Are you an apothecary?” Joked the prince when the cool goblet touched his fingers, eyeing the crimson liquid with no small amount wariness. The surface of it remained undisturbed despite the faint sound of hissing coming from it. It carried no aroma; at least one not discernable by his lackluster, human nose. All and all it didn’t _look_ dangerous, but he maintained a healthy amount of skepticism anyway for self-preservation’s sake. He just...needed a moment to think. “If I drank this, will you tell me...in that way of yours if...,” words were hard right now—truly he must be even a little intoxicated, “...you share this ah, _preference_ , in lover like I do?” 

Alight amber orbs flickered down to the untouched goblet in fair-skinned hands before drifting back up to the countenance of a young human who seemed so uncertain about things that Leiss never gave a second thought to. When he spoke, his words were firm, but not unkind. “My preference in partner have never been rooted in what gender they happen to be, _Erik_.” 

The prince nearly choked when the other said his name for the first time. Like embalming his name in silk. Maybe, this potion could avail him of other things as well. 

Maintaining eye contact, heart beating a little faster than he would like, Erik clasped the goblet a little tighter as he took a huge gulp, letting out a little sound of pleasant surprise at the smoothness in which it went down his throat. It tasted...well the taste wasn’t something he couldn’t quite place, nor did he have the right words to aptly describe it. Hot, yet cold. Sweet but bitter. Everything about it was contradictory...save for this one unsurmountable feeling that something was off. Not quite right. It started off like a tingle that roared to life the moment it finished hitting his stomach, flaring throughout all points in his body in a vigorous surge of energy. Pure, unfiltered energy. It pulsed through him, painfully, pleasurably, maddeningly, a cycle of life and death. 

And just like that, it was gone. Nothing. A figment of his imagination. 

Erik spun around fearfully, eyes wide, searching. “What...what was that? What happened? Leiss—” 

The words died in his throat when another pair of lips were upon his own, and every question and concern he had turned to ash. 

Was this really happening? 

All brain activity ceased inside the young prince, eyes closing in helpless surrender as he kissed the other male back, fueled by desperation and want and something else that he couldn’t name. All of this was received with relish; lips smoother than satin consumed him with an overwhelming urgency, fingers digging into the fabrics of his tunic, drawing him closer till he could feel the unreal heat radiating off that lithe body. A kiss like this—Erik's never kissed anyone like this before, and it showed, showed in how he could do nothing but let Leiss lead, could do nothing but gasp when he felt a tongue trace the seam of his lips hungrily. 

Was he a meal to be devoured? 

He pulled away, flushed, wordless. The man who stared back at him was different then the cryptic stranger from earlier; nothing but hunger and desire eclipsed his face, the light of his eyes brighter than he has ever seen them. 

_Gods was he not aroused!_

_But..._

There was no time to think; Leiss was upon him again, kissing him, sucking his lips, _biting them_ , seeking something that Erik didn’t know, but wanted to give so badly. He moaned, unable to help himself, and the other purred in delight, taking this opportunity to coax the prince’s tongue into a slow dance. A sensual, wet and heavy tango. He didn’t know the steps, but he did his best to follow the others lead who seemed to be so much more experienced than he. He wanted to ask _who. When? Where?_ Did it really matter? Leiss was with him now, and he would not let him go. 

As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, the blond chuckled huskily against his lips, muttering something soft in what sounded like another language before whispering something against the prince’s ear, “Worry not, dear one. For you are mine, and I am yours.” 

“You—” 

Whatever he was going to say was irrelevant and swallowed by eager lips, falling into the pleasurable lull of sliding lips and curious tongues. Inexperienced yes, but Erik was quick to learn, quick to execute the same tricks his teacher exhibited seconds ago much to the delight of the blond if those satisfied noises were anything to go by. Yes, teach him—he could do this forever. The blond was just so warm, so inviting…bewilderingly so. A creature not of this world, but maybe so—he knew so little of the world to begin with. Erik had so many questions, but it was so hard to even think when he was being... 

_Devoured_

Leiss seemed determined to keep this status quo; one last lingering kiss on Erik’s kiss-swollen lips before he drifted to the skin under his ear, nipping gently a path down his throat. It felt good, _so good_. His right hand clenched tighter in the soft material of Leiss’s robe while the other sought the sunny, short locks framing that beautiful face, marveling at the feather-like texture, how easily it was to sift his hand through each strand. A particularly hard bite on his clavicle was a reward for his efforts, soothed with tongue and lips seconds later. And still those lips proceeded ever downward...relentlessly… 

Was he so intoxicated by the other’s touch that he didn’t raise a voice in protest when nimble fingers undid the belt of his tunic? Was he so worried he would never have an opportunity to experience this that he only could suck in a stuttered breath when the blond smoothly divested him of his shirt, leaving him bare-chested and exposed? 

Again, Erik sought those liquid-gold eyes, comforted and aroused at the hungry delight he found there, at how his arousal was mirrored if not surpassed in those endless depths. 

_But..._

Almost reverently, fingers traced the hard surface of his abs, followed by satin lips, tasting and feeling his skin, leaving sparks of pleasure in their wake. Erik knew he had a respectable body; if anything, he was rather confident in that, knew he was pleasing to the eye—as far as human’s went anyway. But even he didn’t know there were spots on his body that caused him to jerk in surprise or cry out wantonly when so delicately touched. His nipples being one. The wet, warm moisture of Leiss’s month was like sin, his grip tightening in those locks when lips closed around a pert, dusky nipple. 

“Ah, _please_...!” 

He knew naught what he was begging for, but his lover seemed to understand, taking his time rolling the hardened nub on his tongue while his hands continued to roam his abdomen. Over and over. Systematically doing that to one before moving to another—a never-ending cycle that had him panting with desire, feeling like he was steadily losing his mind. He was so...so hard, it _hurt_ —and have been quite for some time, perhaps shortly after kissing Leiss even. It bothered him this was all it took for him to reach this state, where _he wanted_ to be the one to push Leiss back against the bed, to be the one who ravages him. 

Those fingers gave pause; lips left his chest (much to his chagrin) as those eyes glanced up at him, challengingly, daringly. 

Erik huffed, placing his head against the blazing, smooth surface of the other’s brow, eyes closed in submission. 

_Maybe another time._

Leiss hummed low in agreement from his throat, placing a tender kiss between the inky black tendrils of Erik’s temple before sinking to the hard floor on his knees, becoming eye level with his crotch. Erik’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull, alarmed. 

“Y-You don’t have to do that!” 

A breathy chuckle and a heated look accompanied that sensuous voice as he spoke into the quite of the room, “And what if it please me to do so? Will you deny me of such a simple pleasure?” 

Erik's voice failed him; swallowing anxiously when fingers found the clasp to his pants, pulled the fabric down along with his smallclothes till it was bunched at the ankles. His cock sprang free for those eyes to see, translucent liquid beading at the top, the cool air making it quiver. For a moment, nothing was said, nothing was done—Erik feared that he was displeasing in some way, unattractive to the eye. Surely, he was of adequate size—more than average even. 

“Is your ego so fragile? You are perfect for me, dear one.” 

Bemused, Leiss released an airy chuckle, sealing his words with a quick peck on the lips before diverting his attention to where Erik needed him to be. Please, _please_ touch him. Anything. His body was high-strung as it is, nearly ripping apart at the seams when warm fingers finally wrapped around the length of him, tearing a choked noise from his throat at the heat and firmness of that grip. They rubbed him experimentally at first; curious, learning the shape of him, his size, his girth; all of this measured in lazy, careful strokes. It felt deliciously dizzying; better than anything his own hand could provide. The way those fingers tugged languidly at his foreskin; the way a thumb would casually collect the dribbling liquid at the head and use it as lubrication for a smoother glide— _ah, so good._

Erik was reduced to a sweaty mess of a tortured moans, leaning back on one arm, while his other hand unconsciously clenched golden tendrils, seeking an anchor to keep him tethered to this world. Green eyes closed in bliss, missing the moment when Leiss shifted and engulfed his turgid cock into the hot, moist cavern of his mouth in one smooth move. 

_Gods, kill him now, please...!_

“A-Ah yes, Leiss...!” 

A hum of lazy acknowledgment traveled up and down his cock, the vibrations wreaking havoc on already overstimulated nerves. It felt like he was melting—melting into a puddle of just sensation and pleasure, at the whim of that mouth sucking on him for all his worth. And the sounds—Divines above were they so... _so lewd!_ How could Leiss not feel demeaned when he sunk so low on his cock that Erik felt like he could feel the back of his throat? How could he not feel even a little self-conscious when his tongue twisted and played with his sensitive head down to his testicles, all manner of bodily fluid glistening on pink lips, those eyes half-lidded jewels of lust and sin? 

It was beyond him. 

_And yet..._

Erik hissed through his teeth, an explicative dying on his lips as Leiss upped his pace, spurred on by something. Something began to tighten in his groin area, a familiar feeling, a pleasurable one, forcing the prince to have concentrate on not slamming his dick down the blond’s throat in impassioned desperation. But Leiss would have none of that; slowing his frantic pace to casual licks along the length of him, teasing the vein underneath, provocative and so very deliberate. He...why? Why was he teasing him like this? And yet the pressure in his abdomen continued to raise; his moans continued unabated and his brain still struggled to comprehend the intensity of what he was experiencing. 

Heaven would not release him so easily. 

“I’m...I’m getting close,” Erik panted out shallowly, voice tight with restraint, on the edge with no way back up. 

Liquid-gold orbs flickered up towards him in concurrence, but continued on unabated, detaching from the prince’s engorged dick with a wet _pop_ to place a kiss along his inner thigh. Those lips seared him, branding him; Erik mouthed a desperate plea, wanting to be surrounded in that wet heat again— _needed it_. He was so close, painfully so. 

Mercifully Leiss swallowed him again, sucking and licking him with all the expertise he could muster, moaning around his cock like a sinner before the gods. That feeling in his pelvic area reached its crescendo, knowing he would come any moment. 

_But..._

To do so, in the other’s mouth? He couldn’t possibly humiliate— 

“I want it,” the other breathed out lasciviously between mouthfuls, “Now.” 

Unadulterated bliss flooded through his veins as his orgasm ripped through him with dizzying intensity, shepherded by forceful words and a coaxing tongue. His groan was deep and guttural, rumbling throughout his chest, body trembling with aftershocks as his brain was enveloped in a cloudy high. It was... _that was so good_. This man... Erik managed to concentrate long enough to see how his partner was fairing, breath hitching at the damnable image of the blond swallowing everything he had to offer with an immodest sigh, going back for seconds to suckle gently at his still twitching cock. 

Gods, he was still so hard. As if he didn’t just completely empty himself in that sinful mouth. Like nothing changed. How was it possible? 

He didn’t understand. 

Weary, Erik felt his arm give and suddenly his back was laying intimately against the sheets, twitching, dazed and resisting the urge to drift off. He found it amazing that anyone could feel this way; amazing that all it took was for one person who asked for nothing in return. He wanted to return the feeling, to show it was appreciated, but even now the blond was still so dominate, peppering his prone body with kisses as he hovered over him. 

_He was so...so smitten._

“Can I... can I touch you?” Erik asked so quietly, that he almost doubted he said anything at all. 

There was a good chance Leiss simply didn’t hear the soft utterance for the room was rather quiet save for his labored breathing and what sounded like the hiss of fabric. He wanted to see what the other was doing, but his limbs were still divested of strength and his mind was chaotic mixture of endorphins, alcohol, and something else. Lust maybe. His body still craved the other’s touch despite how satiated he was. It craved more—yet what else could they do? Curse the limitations of a virgin mind, but he really couldn’t think of anything to surpass what they just done. 

Funny how this night would continue to exceed his expectations. 

A noticeable weight came to rest upon his hip area, drawing him out of his stupor only for him to gape almost stupidly at the amber eyed gazed peering down at him. Strong legs straddled his hips, trapping him underneath a body that was naked yet still mostly hidden by that black robe. The weight of other’s arousal was unmistakable as it brushed against his stomach, causing the prince to flush heatedly upon realizing that the man’s nudity extended downward as well. The desire to touch grew ever stronger, wanting nothing more to push the folds of that robe aside and appreciate the beauty of the man fully. 

Without really thinking about it, Erik reached towards a general idea of where Leiss’s stomach would be, brows furrowing in puzzlement when a hand wrapped firmly about his wrist, effectively putting an end to that quest. Half-lidded amber hues gazed down at him with no small amount of affection, his voice amused but kind, “Eyes on me, dear one.” The underside of his wrist was kissed delicately then released in one smooth motion, a pleased sigh spilling from sensuous lips as he slowly grinded his bottom along Erik’s lower stomach. 

Some type of...fluid became present, something that escaped his attention before, something that was hot and slick and appearing in a copious amount. Did Leiss use some type of lubricant? When? There was just...so much of it. He wanted to ask what it was but Leiss seemed fond of not giving him time to think, nearly whimpering when his erection was grabbed once more and lined up against flesh that was slick, tight, and exuding so much heat that his skin felt like it was a couple degrees from burning. 

Oh... Leiss couldn’t possibly mean to— 

“Are you sure? I haven’t...we haven’t— _won’t it hurt?_ ” Erik uttered in stricken disbelief, holding himself up by the elbows, still unable to see between the natural darkness of the room and the obstacle of Leiss’s stubborn clothing. 

In spite of his concerned babbling, Leiss kissed him passionately, muttering hotly against his lips, “I need you inside, filling me. Please.” 

In an instant, all questions and concerns abandoned the prince, focusing on nothing but the slide of sweet lips against his own and how the other began to gradually sink upon his waiting flesh. If Leiss’s mouth had been like heaven, then this was nothing short of a twisted, rapturous hell. 

Slick, heated flesh constricted around his cock like a velvet glove, pulsing with the life and heartbeat of a man who seemed hellbent on killing him in the most erotic way possible. Fleshy walls massaged and pushed against him rhythmically, deliciously, forcing broken, noises from his throat, unable to focus on the lips that nibbled at his own. So tight. _So good._ There was no resistance—just an easy glide all the way till Leiss’s firm ass was flush against the base of his cock, feeling other seek leverage by grasping his shoulders. He trembled, albeit subtly, letting Erik know that this was just as intense as it was for him. Just as pleasurable. 

They stayed this unmoving bliss for quite a while, relishing in their connection, at the way their bodies fit together so perfectly. 

The urge to thrust repeatedly into that sinful warmth was all-consuming, panting now like the inexperienced boy he was while his body quivered at the sensation. Taking mercy on his suffering, Leiss began to lift himself till Erik had almost slipped out of that wonderful channel, his lips twisted into a snarl as he sheathed himself so abruptly on that delicious cock. Again, and again, he did this till they were both trapped in a hellish cycle of friction and pleasure, the sound of flesh slapping against each other, disturbing the peace of the room with something wicked and lovely at the same time. 

Offhandedly, Erik began to wonder how thin the walls were, but his mind refused to be distracted from the golden-haired male continuously impaling himself on his cock over and over. He could feel the warm smear of the man’s pre-ejaculate staining his stomach on each way down, joining the mess of fluids staining his body. He wanted to touch his body, wanted to take Leiss’s throbbing dick into his hand, to taste the fruits of his pleasure he knew was leaking from the very tip. 

_He would have begged for it. Done anything for it—_

The other’s breath hitched, something about him seeming to change as Leiss began to ride him harder with an urgency that Erik didn’t understand, falling back against the bed at a simple push from his lover. The view from this angle was unforgettable; amber hues half –lidded with lust and rapture; his expression a picture of exquisite, pleasurable agony; and the flashes of pale, sweat-stained skin gleaming temptingly between the folds of that thick robe. It was like he the other was lost in a world he couldn’t quite reach, enticing him, damning him. 

Erik couldn’t help it—he simply had to touch. 

His hands dove through the parting of that robe, reaching skin so hot that it almost burned him, but willfully he grabbed on, fingers finding purchase on petite hips. Still Leiss didn’t notice, overcome in sensation, his calm composure ruined. On the other hand, Erik wasn’t doing too great himself: a groaning mess of a man, already feeling that coiling pressure rear up again, threatening to sweep him under once more. 

“Leiss...Leiss...” Any other words wouldn’t leave him, his brain effectively swallowed by the bliss of the other’s body. It was beginning to become too much. 

His faint muttering was enough though; the man’s attention sharpened on him; his eyes aglow with carnal desire. So bright! But his expression was primal, nearly animalistic. His words even more so: 

“Harder...! More. Ah, yes!” 

Erik felt compelled to do as he was bid, instinctively tightening his grip on those hips so he could meet Leiss’s rhythm, nearly climaxing on the spot when Leiss _roared_ in pleasured delight. Those lips were on his again, consuming him, dominating him. For a moment, he thought his tongue brushed against something sharp in that heated orifice, dismissing it when the other’s innards seemed to clench at a faster frequency, suffocating him in slick, tight euphoria. Was he close? Let it be so; his limit was approaching—anymore more and he would break. 

“Fill me, Erik... I need this. _I need you._ ” 

And just like that, whatever anchor was holding him to this plain broke as his second orgasm ripped through him, significantly stronger than the first for it left him barely conscious and still, voice worn and abused. Thick ropes of cum was milked from him—every last drop, mixing messily with Leiss’s own body fluids as he came a moment later, his orgasm silent and powerful as his whole body shuddered. More of that slick stuff oozed from him still, scalding, wet, as the man’s insides contracted rhythmically around Erik’s over-sensitized cock, drawing pained whimpers from the exhausted prince. 

Mystifyingly enough, his dick was still erect and eager, the first bud of fear finally growing within his chest. 

_Something...something wasn’t right._

That fluid that secreted from the other’s entrance; the difference in texture on Leiss’s skin when he wondered a little higher than his hip; even that brief moment when his tongue brushed against something sharp in his mouth. He knew Leiss wasn’t human but this...this wasn’t quite elf. Not quite fae. 

_Something was wrong._

“What...did you do to me?” Erik inquired deliriously, not understanding the conflicting states of bone-dead weariness and sexual eagerness in his body. “W... what are you?” 

Leiss didn’t answer him, bending down to kiss all over his body amorously, muttering a single word between each glide of lips: 

“Again.” 

_But he couldn’t..._

_“_ Again.” 

Those hips began to move again, Erik helpless to do anything but lay there, exhausted, heart beating a hole through his chest. 

_“Again.”_

Would it...ever end? 

“I would have you again, dear one.” 

And he would, for as many times as he wanted. Even if Erik wasn’t conscious for it all. 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~ 

When Erik awoke, it was to the blinding rays of the sun and this lingering sense that everything was wrong. 

For one thing he was completely and utterly alone. 

The prince leaped to his feet, twisting about in place, the events of the previous night distorted and disorganized within his brain. Gold was the only thing that stood out amongst the mess; and the heat and pleasure that came with the joining of two bodies. Did he really...did he really share such intimacy with a complete stranger? 

Yes, and many times overs. 

Uncertainty and many other complicated emotions made breathing difficult, trying to compose himself so he could understand his situation. Leiss, his mysterious blond lover, was not here. There wasn’t even evidence that he had been here in the first place. Even the prince’s body was cleaned of last night's events, fully and neatly dressed, smelling as if he hadn’t had a night of pure debauchery. The work of magic maybe? If it weren’t for how achy and painful his body felt, he might’ve thought he dreamed the whole thing up. Would it have been better that way? If Leiss hadn’t been real? No, of course not. His feelings were still mostly the same despite the plethora of questions haunting him. And he did want to see him again, smitten as he was. 

Did the other truly not feel the same? After all, he left without even saying goodbye. 

Feeling unwell, emotionally and physically, Erik was preparing to gather his cloak to leave when he spotted something on the table. Curious, he inched hesitantly to the lonely furniture, brows furrowing as he picked up a piece of parchment covered in elegant penmanship. 

It was a note. 

Before he could read one word off the thing, Erik felt himself suddenly lose strength in his legs, falling to his knees as his body was wracked with painful shudders. Nausea erupted through him, powerful and instantaneous, his stomach evicting yesterday contents in an acidic puddle in front of him a split second later. What...what the hell was wrong with him? Did he eat something yesterday? Too much to drink? 

_Drink...drink...wait._

The briefest flash of a silver goblet thundered through his mind, but before Erik could even think on it, the door to the room slammed open and the familiar sight of soldiers in extravagant, silver armor flooded in. At the fore was a tall human woman with only one eye and a serious face. Captain Edlyn Downere of the Wyrmsguard. 

_Oh no._

Quickly, he tucked the note into the back of his boot. 

“I hope his royal highness has a good reason for running away from home. One that I look forward to hearing on the way back to the palace.” 

The moment Erik opened his to respond, he grew inexplicably sick again and heaved acid out his stomach, keeling over and losing consciousness in quick succession. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, I hope you liked it enough to want to keep reading. Let me know in your comments, kudos, etc... It is always appreciated and I generally respond to every one of them. Till next time! :3


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